The Raven's Shadow
by Avenging Neko
Summary: Seras is a witch. At least, that's what the people of her village think, anyways. Her constant companion – a raven – is clearly her familiar and perpetrates her evil will. One day, a certain armor clad wanderer arrives in the suspicious little town, and… Well, you know how the story goes from there, don't you?
1. Chapter 1

_**The Raven's Shadow**_

_**Ketti:**_Oh, look, a new story. *shifty eyes* A double update tonight, and when I wake up I'll either give y'all chapter three and four, chapter three, or something completely unrelated. We'll see! You can thank Jubalii for this new story, she inspires me to write. That's right, it's all her fault. ;D

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"Witch!" "Demon!" "Burn her!"

Seras woke with a cry, looking around her frantically. Shit, shit, shitshitshitshit. They'd found her. The empty house was surrounded on all sides by angry voices and torches.

The fifteen year old girl gathered her skirts close to her and cowered for a moment in the corner, as if hiding would make them go away. When the door was rammed into, nearly busting off its rusted hinges, she jumped to her feet. No, she wouldn't go down without a fight! Terrified that they would burn the home with her inside, she threw a rock out the nearest window and when she heard their shouts of surprise, she bolted out the back hole.

"There she goes! Get her!"

Her breath came in sobs as she ran for her life, skirts hiked up at her waist so that her long legs could move unimpeded, her waist length blonde locks glowing in the flickering torchlight. Sanctuary, she had to reach the Church, had to… She stumbled on a loose stone in the road and with a sinking heart remembered that Father Anderson was away on his yearly duty to seek out the helpless and needy and render them aid.

But if she could make it, maybe they'd…

A heavy body tackled her from behind and she screamed like a banshee as she fell – she tasted blood in her mouth, and realized she'd chipped a tooth – and writhed desperately to get free. "Ah gawt'er!"

Seras fought like a demon, clawing and biting until a heavy fist slammed into her skull and she went limp. Rough voices jeered at her as her arms were yanked behind her back and her wrists tied with rough rope. The mob cheered as they dragged the unconscious girl to the town square where a stake had been prepared, dry kindling gathered at its base. Hauling her roughly into place, dirty hands grasped her legs and fondled them obscenely as they hoisted the tiny figure up so that her arms looped around the pole and they dropped her to land with a _thud_ and a crack as the wood beneath her bent under her dead weight.

"The witch is caught! Burn her! Burn the witch!"

"Ent worth et ef sh's nawt awek." Someone protested, and the chubby woman waddled forward with a vial of pungent oils in her fat hand, she jabbed the nearest man in the arm and handed it to him, "Wek'er awp. Witch needsa ken 'er end, eh?"

The man grunted and clambered up the wood, first slapping the girl so hard the woman who handed him the vial thought the demon's neck would snap – it just proved her further guilt that it did not – and when she didn't stir he shoved the end of the vial under her nose. It took a moment, but the rancid smell jerked her to consciousness with a gasp, followed by dry retching heaves as she choked on the fumes. The man laughed cruelly and would have shoved the bottle up her nose had the woman not screeched, _"dun let et touch'er!"_

His fun ruined, he kicked the witch-child in the ribs before hopping down and handing the glass back to the good woman, who wiped it thoroughly on her apron before pocketing it again.

Seras whimpered, breaths coming in a rattling wheeze as she tried to focus her blurry vision on the angry faces surrounding her.

Admits the catcalls, she heard the voice of the constable calling.

"Repent, girlie!" She looked up blearily and saw him waving from the back. "Repent, and God will let you into Heaven!"

"Tha's right dearie," a goodwife said somewhere behind her. "We're only doing it for your soul, ye know."

Seras opened her mouth, to beg, to protest, to scream in anger, to weep, to do anything, but she wans't given the chance. "She'll enchant us! Don't listen!" The crowd rroared and the torches waved threateningly.

One of the men, a skinny rat faced sort of man, leapt forward and clambered up the wood pile to tangle his hand in her hair, "A witch's hair! Only a witch could keep it so neat without a home, and it shines like the gold she sold her soul for!" He cried, and the men jeered at her as the women clucked in disapproval. He grabbed a knife from his belt and Seras cried out as he tore through her blonde locks, leaving them to hang raggedly around her face as he brandished the hair before throwing it to the kindling. "Let it burn with her!"

"Burn, burn, burn! Burn the witch!"

"No!" Seras screamed, but the man punched her in the gut as she gasped, spitting up blood. Hanging limply at the waist, her tied arms the only thing holding her up, she felt the tears dampen her cheeks and was glad she didn't need to look at the vicious ugly faces any longer.

"May the Lord God forgive you your sins, and may the Devil rot for tainting such a young soul!" The man cried before leaping down and grabbing a torch.

Seras prayed that someone would stop him, like Father Anderson always did.

Her hopes were shattered as the sharp tang of wood smoke hit her nostrils. Heat built around her as more and more torches were thrown onto the pyre, and it was no time at all before she was surrounded by dancing hungry tongues of red, orange, and greedy yellow. Burning hair curdled her nose and she whimpered as she tugged frantically at her arms, trying to free herself even as the townsfolk laughed. They laughed and laughed, and Seras hated them. She hated them so much she wished she really were a witch, so that she could curse them for their vile deeds.

Heat grew beneath her feet and she screamed as the flames leapt onto her toes, gobbling at her skin. It burned! The holy fire burned, and her throat bled raw from her unholy shrieks as she danced back on the burning wood, trying to escape the flames.

_God! Oh Lord, why hast thou forsaken me?_

The hem of her skirt caught ablaze and she knew with a dread certainty that she would not be rescued. God would not intervene. But her heart quailed at the thought of calling the Devil to her aid; for was it not better to die an innocent than taint one's soul for all eternity?

"Please," she choked out between chapped lips, her eyes blinded by the smoke, she knew not who she prayed to, anyone, anything that would take pity on a poor orphan child, just _please_…

A raven's cry rent the night air, and then the sky opened up with a thunderous roar and an icy deluge poured from the heavens. Seras sobbed with relief as the gobbling flames shrieked their rage and shrank back into the wood, guttering quickly. The large black bird swooped out of the storm to perch atop the pole holding her to the dead embers. The superstitious simple folk screamed and fled, crying about angry gods and witchcraft as they left the half dead girl to rot.

Seras coughed, and tipped her head up to swallow the falling water, wetting her damaged throat gratefully. Her skin felt too tight, and hot, and she couldn't even think of her feet or she'd cry again. "Thank you," she whispered, barely hanging onto consciousness.

The bird fluttered down to perch carefully on her tied hands, pecking at the rope until it gave with a snap and she fell face first into the muddy ash that was all that remained of her funeral pyre.

The raven hopped a circle around the girl and cawed, but no one came to help.

Seras' last thought before blackness consumed her was that the raven had a lovely voice.

* * *

Muffled voices surrounded her, and she felt as though her ears were stuffed with cotton, her head ached something fearsome, too. Gentle hands replaced the cooling cloth atop her forehead and she murmured appreciably before falling back into the abyss of dreamless healing sleep.

* * *

"Seras, Seras, can ye hear me?"

The familiar voice of Father Anderson pulled at her ears and she moaned weakly, eyelids too heavy to move. She felt his large hands hoisting her up and a cup was held to her lips, she swallowed shakily, coughing weakly after every sip.

"Dinnae worry Seras, Ah'll protect ye," Father Anderson soothed as he helped her to lay back down and she mumbled incoherently in what she hoped came across as her thanks.

A warm hand petted across her scalp comfortingly and she drifted back slowly into the depths of darkness, dimly aware of the burning pain in her feet as the slightl pressure was removed – bandages, a part of her mind realized – and a cooling salve was slathered across the ruined skin.

"How could they," she felt his rumbling voice in her bones more than heard it, "tryin'a burn an innocent child. Misguided fools, Ah must remind them of God's will at next Mass."

Finally she slipped fully under the surface of the black sea and knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Raven's Shadow**_

_**Ketti:**_See? Chapter two! Aren't you glad I'm attempting to update daily, and when that fails, I multi-post to make up for it?

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Seras jerked blindly awake, flinging herself off the tree branch just as an arrow hit the trunk where her head would have been mere seconds prior. The agile blonde caught herself on a lower limb and launched herself forwards, another arrow landing in her wake. A third arrow brushed her hair and she cursed as she slithered down the trunk, blue eyes wide as her bare feet slid in the slippery leaves. Shit.

Voices cried out behind her and she rolled into the bushes, a _thunk_ signaling the fourth impact. Scurrying on all fours she tumbled gratefully into the dry gully and raced through the ditch like her life depended on it – it did, actually – for the safety of the Church.

_**CAW!**_

Seras ducked and rolled and felt the vibration in her bones as the large boulder tumbled into the dry bed, it would have crushed her if she had been a moment slower! Cursing, she put on an extra burst of speed as she heard footfalls above her, the men were gaining on her and she was still too far from the Church to call for Father Anderson's help.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and she reacted without thinking; grabbing the nearest tree root she scrambling up the side of the gully nimble as a squirrel, throwing herself through the trees and onto the path without looking back.

A sharp whinny pierced her ears just as a flicker of movement caught the corner of her eye, and she nearly stumbled as the massive black stallion reared, threatening to knock her head clean off her shoulders. Whimpering under her breath she dove forward between the thrashing legs and caught a glimpse of the rider; a giant of a man wearing heavy silver armor with a black and red cape, his face obscured by the blackness of his tangled hair. Her sharp ears caught the men's surprised shouts as they encountered the frustrated animal, and she prayed that they would be held up long enough for her to make it to safety.

The towering white building loomed ever closer, and she nearly sobbed in relief, lungs burning as she vaulted up over the wall and slammed into the enormous wooden doors, pounding on them and shrieking like a banshee, "Sanctuary! _Sanctuary!"_

Quick as a flash the two leaves were thrown open and Seras fell into the arms of the priest with a cry. "Father!"

Father Alexander Anderson swept one arm around her shoulders and peered out into the empty yard before closing the doors behind her, "There there, lass, yer safe now. Ah told ye nae t' sleep in those woods."

His tone was gentle and scolding as he led her deeper into the cathedral, the stained glass windows throwing ethereal light across the cavernous house of worship.

"I know," Seras admitted sheepishly, grateful for his concern, "but 'tis been rainin' th' past week, Father, I'd catch me death o' cold if I slept on th' streets."

He grunted in agreement and patted her shoulder as he sat her down in the front pews, "Aye, but ye ken ye can come tae me for shelter."

Seras gave him a watery smile, holding back her sniffles from sheer force of will, "O'course, Father. But I dun wan'ta be a burden! Imagine th' scandal o' th' witch-child sleepin' in th' church? They'd cry I seduced ye." She giggled, and he nodded solemnly. They'd had this conversation many times; Seras was an orphan, and while she had spent her childhood here in the church, once she had reached thirteen the villagers had begun muttering about her and magick. In fact, Seras had heard, they'd even begun to speculate that she had killed her parents after they discovered the Devil's Mark upon her. Which was utter nonsense! Her parents died from the Sickness, and the fact that she survived was a miracle. Father Anderson had known her God-fearing parents very well, and had christened her when she was a babe. He was her sole defender against the nasty rumors, decrying their supposed proof with his own; witches cannot stand the touch of holy water, yet he blessed her every week at Mass. That and more, for every complaint they lodged against her, he countered with his own praise and protection.

But they both knew he could only do so much, and it was a matter of time before…

Well, that was a thought for another day. She'd spend the night here and return to her place in the streets on thr morrow.

"Thank y'Father, for bein' here f'r me." Seras gave the priest a hug before hunkering down to sleep on the pew.

* * *

Seras took a deep breath of the crisp morning air as she stood at the gate, the sun barely peeking over the edge of the horizon. A gentle _caw_ greeted her in turn and she held up her hand to allow the large black raven to land. Petting the creature fondly, she slipped easily into the shadows and in no time at all stood before the bakery. Raising a finger to her lips, she crept around to the back and knocked near-silently on the door. It opened with a muffled creak and a wary brown eye sized her up before the door opened further and she was yanked inside, "Quick! Afore they eee ye."

Faustus, her faithful winged companion ruffled his feathers before hopping off her wrist to the chair back so that he could watch over the going's on. June, the baker's wife, gave the bird a wary glance before tossing him a few crumbs and handing Seras a hunk of old bread. "Go on, e't up so ye can help wi' th' bakin'."

Seras nodded and smiled gratefully up at the brunette woman whose belly swelled heavily with her third child. Seras hoped the babe would survive, she cared dearly for June and her husband Deuce. The baker's wife was one of few who did not treat her as a witch or believe the wicked rumors, but she did not need her customers knowing that Seras helped her bake the bread or they'd run her out of town.

Hours passed in companionable silence before June shooed her away as the lunch crowd started, and Seras stuck one of the cheese filled bread loves into her bag – her payment – before hot footing it out the back and up one of the overgrown trellis lining the alley.

Seras hopped along the flat roofs of the shop-houses until she reached the beginning of the mud-and-thatch section of town, to which she jumped down in a flutter of her ragged brown cloak and, after looking around her carefully, ducking between two of the huts to crawl into the large berry bush. Settling into the open space in the center, she lay back and stared up at the dappled green light. She'd wait an hour or two and then she'd see about visiting Mrs. Hazel, the doctor's wife that taught her how to read. Literacy was a rare skill, especially for females, but Mrs. Hazel had learned from her husband and shared the gift to any that were willing o learn.

Just… a little longer…

She drifted off in a doze, the rustling of leaves and a whisper soft _caw_ announcing Faustus' return as he nestled into the bush her as a lookout.

* * *

Seras' dreams were filled with fire that choked her lungs and smoldered at her heels, and she woke with a gasp to meet the curious face of a green eyed toddler. Faustus hadn't warned her of company and when Seras looked up, she was stunned to see the raven asleep. Raising a finger to her lips, she dug into her bag and broke off a small chunk of bread for the child, who grinned even wider and quickly backed out of her hiding spot with his bribe.

Seras waited a tense moment to see if his parents would notice anything amiss, and breathed a sigh of relief when there was nothing. Pursing her lips, she whistled softly, the tune similar to a song bird, and Fuastus ruffled his feathers as he woke with a quiet _caw_. Peering down at her with his beady b;ack eyes, Seras gave him a finger wave before he took wing and settled atop the roof of the house behind her, watching for any curious eyes. The coast was clae, and so he voiced the throaty warble that was their personal signal.

Crawling out of the bush, Seras jumped in alarm when she heard a shrill voice cry _'Oi!'_ and she ran as the house wife came barreling out her back door, rolling pin in hand as she shouted obscenities at the fleeing witch.

As she turned the corner, she heard the sharp _caw!_ of alarm, but it was too late and she ran face first into a burly man's chest. He snarled at her and grabbed her by her short blonde hair, throwing her against the wall as he pulled his belt free. "Witch! Eh'll leahn yeh sum mannehs! Eh'll beat th' bad roight outa yeh!"

Seras yelped and squirmed as he kicked her legs out and she barely felt the first impact of his belt on her back, too preoccupied with escape. Then the buckle slapped the back of her neck and she shrieked, curling in on herself as the brown cloak tore, revealing her stained white smock, the back marred with old red lines and clumsy stitches. The cloth split easily under the heavy leather, revealing a roadmap of ugly scars, new blood trickling over the lumpy bands.

"Witch! Give up thy masth Satan an' retuhn teh th' Lord God."

Seras's shoulders shook with silent sobs as hot fire lanced her spine. Blood oozed across her skin in slippery waves and she felt spatters of it caress the back of her neck and the arms thrown up over her head as the whipping continued.

Unfontunaely for her, in her struggled her pounch had been overturned, and the angry peasant roared and smashed the loaf under his muddy foot. "Thief! Neht jus' a witch, yeh evil child, now yeh steal, too!"

Seras saw her life flash before her eyes then, and for a moment she welcomed the threat of death. Then her shoulders stiffened and she gathered her feet under her carefully, shielded by the tatters of her cloak. It hurt to breathe, but she knew she needed to move. Now, do it now, Seras. _Now!_

As if her mental resolve were some sort of signal, she heard a vicious screech as Faustus swooped down on the man, and she knew that her raven's talons were just as sharp as his beak. The man shrieked in alarm and backed up, and that was all the space Seras needed. Gathering her torn clothing, she ran, crimson footprints marking her path. She felt dizzy, lightheaded, and she began to shiver as the breeze caressed her damp skin. She needed to reach higher ground.

Spotting one of the trellises she used, she clambered up it with wheezing gasps, and collapsed on the roof in a dead faint.

The sky rumbled and the clouds opened in a gentle rain, washing the evidence away and cleaning the blood from her clammy skin. She shivered and huddled deeper into her ruined clothing. It seemed the rain would go on forever, but English rain is fickle, and it stopped after a moment, its job done. Seras slept on, unaware, and Fuastus landed at her side a moment later to stand guard.


	3. Chapter 3

_**The Raven's Shadow**_

_**Ketti:**_Look, I updated before mdnight my time. This still counts. XD I'll try to get the seccond update out in a minute or two. Then tomorow is back to one-a-day til I slack off again. Hope you like!

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Seras dreamed of escape, of looming trees and delicious berries, of being safe from the judging eyes of wrong minded people.

_Seras lay beneath the tree with a content sigh, fingetips stained a light red from her berry picking. Faustus perched above her as she rested, and everything was right with the world._

_There was a rustle of leaves, and the raven cawed softly, alerting Seras who had already sat up curiously. The sixteen year old had a curious smile on her face, her body covered by the too large brown cloak that Father Anderson had given her. "Hullo!" She chirped, eyes sparkling._

_There was a moment of silence, and then two men emerged from the brush, and Seras' smile froze in place as she felt a chill working its way down her spine._

"_Oi, are y'u the witch e'ryone's been on aboot? Sed sh' ran off inta the woods they did."_

_Seras inched backward, pressing herself to the tree trunk. "Course I ain't a witch!"_

"_Oh yeah?" The other grinned, "prove it then."_

"_P-...prove it?" She was confused. "How?"_

"_Show us yeh feet, pretty witch, and if yeh's not burned, we'll letcha go."_

_Seras' heart sank and she knew that she couldn't outrun them like this. Whistling sharply, Faustus swooped down on the men with a raucous screech, wings batting at their faces with talons and beak._

_Seras didn't hesitate, she tucked her skirt up between her legs and clambered up the trunk as swiftly as a monkey. Taking a running start, she leaped, and wung her way through the branches until she could no longer hear the angry voices at her back. Exhausted, she curled up in the fork of a tree, adjusting her voluminous clothing to act as a blanket._

Even in her fitful dreams she felt something amiss in the air around her. Some dark shadow loomed over her, its touch icy like death, and she felt it reaching for her.

Jerking awake, she recoiled as she saw the armored hand extended towards her face. Both figures froze for a moment, Seras' eyes taking in the stranger's appearance; he was covered head to toe in armor, with a large cloak at his back, and she recognized him as the knight whose horse she had startled two days ago.

"Wha-" she heard a scitter of a rock being kicked, or thrown, and in a flash she was gone, scrambling up to the safety of the rooftop.. She pressed herself flat, and listened intently, but no noise drifted up from the alley between the buildings. Peeking cautiously over the edge, she saw the knight walking his massive black steed to the inn, as if nothing had happened.

Curious, she followed him like a ghost in the night – for it was night now, the sun had just finished setting and all the good folk were indoors. Perhaps if she was lucky she could sneak into the barn and sleep in the hay when the door opened for the knight's steed. When she reached the edge of the solid roofed houses and shops, she jumped down, and stumbled in pain and surprise as her back lit with fire. She must jabe torn a scab. Cursing under her breath, she pulled the hood of her cloak up and crept carefully after the man now that she was on street level. If he saw her he made no show of it, and Seras cheered silently when the stable doors opened. Making her careful way forward, she slipped in the side and quickly into the shadowed corner of the barn while the stablehands worked with the enormous black stallion. Hunkering down with the rags, she kept absolutely still, listening intently to the sounds of the groom murmuring pleasant nothings as he settled the knight's steed in the largest stall with some fresh hay and water.

But they didn't leave as Seras expected, instead the head groom went to his ground floor office, and the two boys clambered up into the hay loft. Seras' heart sank, there was no way she could get up there without them noticing, and these rags smelled a bit foul. When all was silent, she crept down the rows of mostly empty stalls until she got to the largest one. Ducking under the latched gate, she froze for a moment as she came face to face with the intimidating stallion. The light was dim, but clear enough for Seras to see herself reflected in those red eyes. He snuffled at her hair before lifting his head and shoving his muzzle into the water bucket, dismissing her. The stall had been mucked recently, and the smell of freshly laid hay tickled her nose as she skirted around the edge to the back where she found a good sized pile of the stuff. Throwing one last glance over her shoulder at the enormous horse – the biggest she'd ever seen! – she curled up on her makeshift bed of straw, and fell asleep, surrounded by the scents of horses, leather, and dry grass.

* * *

The night drew on, the moon reaching her zenith while all the good folk were abed. A flicker of movement in the shadows caught the horse's eye and he turned his head to track the shadow in the darkness. For such a large man weighted down with such heavy armor, Alucard made not a sound as he approached the stall.

The two red eyed creatures stated eachother down for a long moment before the horse dipped his head and looked away, over his shoulder at the pale arm sticking out of the hay. "Mephisto, did you catch a pet?" Alucard's deep voice rumbled with amusement as he stepped through the gate, not bothering to unlatch it, and walked around the massive black stallion. Mephisto whickered softly and turned with his Master to observe the girl.

The armor clad monster masquerading as a man stood over the prone figure, recognizing her as the girl that had run from the men, and again as the homeless waif sleeping on the street – she'd smelled so strongly of blood then (and now) that he'd thought her dead for sure – and he inspected her form curiously. Her arms were stick thin, her cheeks hollow, yet her face was still quite lovely, and her golden locks shone. The cloak hid the rest of her from his view, but he surmised the rest of her would be sufficiently comely to match her face.

As his hand extended – to wake her, to caress her skin, perhaps even to snap her pretty neck for sport – there was a flutter of wings and a large raven swooped down from the rafters to perch above the girl, bobbing its head and clacking its beak threateningly as it danced over the rail, warning him off.

Amused, he straightened up and black met red in a timeless stare down, the intelligent eyes scrutinizing him with mild disapproval.

"Oh stop your posturing, you overgrown feather duster. You and I both know that if you truly wanted to keep the girl from me you'd be waking her and opening those barn doors for her conveniently."

The raven tilted his head, then bobbed it, beak clacking in a near-silent laugh.

Alucard bent at the waist to examine ths sleeping face more closely, and reached his hand out to lightly caress her cheek, enjoying the smell of blood surrounding the girl; it was pure and virginal, heavily laced with pain and the lightest seasoning of tears. His favorite.

The bird clacked its beak in warning and he chuckled as he stood straight, bowing his head mockingly to the fey creature as he patted Mephisto on the flank and returned to his hotel room. Perhaps he would stay an extra day or two…

* * *

A velvet soft nose nuzzled her cheek and breath whickered across her face, rousing the girl gently. Seras blinked sleepily as she gazed up into the deep brown eyes of the knight's stallion. Voices were raised as the groom and his apprentices roused for the morning, and Seras realized the horse had woken her before they could find her. Petting along his muzzle gratefully, she carefully hoisted herself to her feet, feeling the broad head gently butt her back to push her behind him as the stable lad peered into the stall. He clicked his tongue and patted the pail, but the horse stayed put, and so the boy shrugged, refilling the pail of water and grains before moving on to tend his other charges. Seras leaned against the stallions hindquarters and petted his coat fondly, "What a wonderful black beauty ye bw." She whispered praise and admiration until the barn cleared of noise. This was her chance, and she slipped under the gate to hurry out the open doors while the lads got their breakfast. Her stomach roared in protest at the thought of food, and she hurried down the back streets to the baker's shop, only to find a young girl sweeping the stoop. Seras hunkered down in her cloak and watched the pretty thing a bit enviously. Once she was done she shook out her apron and opened the back door to the bakery, and Seras' heart sunk. June must have hired some help, and now Seras was cut off from her only reliable source of food.

Shoulders sagging she turned and made her way carefully through town to see if Mrs. Hazel had any visitors, and if not, perhaps she could help the kindly woman with a few chores to earn a meal as well as more lessons with her letters.

* * *

The sky burned red with the blood of the setting sun before Seras saw the knight emerge from the hotel. He was on foot this time, and she realized again how enormous the man was, especially with his gleaming armor, he must surely be as tall as Father Anderson! Something drew her to the man, and she stood from her perch on the roof to follow him from above – no one ever looked up.

Following him with her bird's eye view, she couldn't help but notice how _different_ he was compared to the other villagers that she'd known all her life.

For one, he never talked to a single soul the entire time she shadowed him, and when the peasant folk greeted him cheerily on their way home he just stared at them with his piercing red-brown eyes amidst the tangle of his black locks until they paled and looked away, hurrying off and rubbing the backs of their arms. She also noticed that he stayed clear of the food shops, which was a shame, she had been hoping he might buy some bread or meat and perhaps find a way to get a share herself – usually with Faustus' help. For all that his hair was tangled around his face, it looked clean, and his thick stubble-almost-a-beard had no stains of his meals caught in the whiskers, and she could practically see her reflection in the shine of his armor. This knight was no slob, and she liked that about him.

She followed him until the stars blazed to life in the night sky, the moon a mere sliver in the sky above, until all but the hardiest or drunkest villager was indoors and they were essentially alone, and still she stayed on her high perch, watching him silently. He just stood there in the empty town square, and she fidgeted slightly, wondering at his ability to stand so still for so long.

"Tonight," she jumped to hear him speak, his voice a sinuous rumble that tickled her ears, "is truly a beautiful night."

As if on cue her stomach roared in protest, the sound so loud she nearly tumbled from her perch in surprise, and he barked a laugh as he tipped his head up to meet her startled blues with his own blood red gaze, "Isn't it, Little Wolf?"

Cheeks flushed with embarrassment, she fell back onto her heels, seconds from bolting when he continued, "I don't have any food, Little Wolf, your stalking is pointless."

Was it her imagination, or did he sound amused and… almost pleased?

Peering over the edge at him shyly she bit her lip as her stomach growled a second time and he turned his entrancing eyes back to the night sky. Some strange part of her urged her to talk to him, wanted to get to know the strange knight with his red eyes and his marvelous black steed. Clearing her throat, she hoped her voice wouldn't crack or rasp as she spoke; "Yer horse is nice."

There, she said something to him!

He snorted and she could practically feel the dark humor radiating from him, "The men that were following you would disagree."

Her interest piqued, she inched forward until her chin rested on the edge and her pale face was visible in the scant moonlight, "'m sorry if I startl'd him."

He laughed, waving his armored hand to dismiss the thought, "I admit I was impressed that you went under him instead of around."

She felt surprisingly comfortable around this stranger, and she shifted around until she sat on the edge of the roof, bare feet touching the sun warmed wall. "He's v'ry fine horse, Sir."

"Mm," he kept his back to her, and for a moment she wanted to jump down to the ground so that she could… She didn't know. "Thank ye f'r holdin' them off, Sir. They'd meant to kill me."

She sounded so calm about that, as if being threatened with death were an everyday occurrence for her.

"Oh?" He sounded interested, and that sent a chill down her spine. Suddenly she felt over exposed, and she stood on shaky legs. "Thank ye again, Sir, f'r th' talk. It was nice. I have te go, now, good morrow."

With those words she turned and fled, cloak billowing behind her like tattered wings. A fallen angel trapped on earth and branded as a witch.

Had she stayed a moment longer she would have seen him turn his head, a Cheshire grin on his handsome face as he purred the answering words silkily; _Good morrow, Little Wolf._


	4. Chapter 4

_**The Raven's Shadow**_

_**Ketti:**_*is updating early today* Look, a chapter written just for you guys! And one that JuJu didn't see in advance for once. This didn't go the way I thought it would originally, but hopefully y'all still think it's good. Now we can get to the fun stuff next chapter! (Whenever that is...)

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Seras sat in a tree, lost among the leaves as she gazed up at the cloudy sky, the sun shining between the gaps, a song on her lips; "Come now, open your eyes, look up to the flames in the sky. Come now, do not forget those embers are the final judge."

Her voice was as sweet as a songbird's and she smiled to herself as she hummed the next stanza to herself. The lyrics were perhaps a bit morbid, but they seemed to fit. Glancing down at the scarred mess that covered her bare feet, her smile faltered and she stopped humming. She still remembered the taste of the smoke in her mouth, of burning skin and hair mixed with the dry rotted wood, it haunted her nightmares.

_Caw!_

A half loaf of bread dropped into her lap and she caught it instinctively before it could slip away. Stomach roaring in hungry rage, she tore into the somewhat dry crusty bread with an animalistic snarl. Moaning in delight, she scarfed the loaf until there was nothing left but rumbs that she licked from her palm. Looking up at Fuastus she gave him a radiant smile, "Yer th' best, Faustus! Allus looking out f'r me." Raising her hand, she cuddled the bird to her chest when he landed, stroking his feathers and murmuring praises against the soft down on his sleek head.

It had been four years since the villagers had tried to burn her, and after she had recovered she found that Faustus followed her everywhere she went.

Sadly, having a raven familiar only intensified the rumors of her devilry, and the adults had taken to beating her, 'for her own good'. Seras couldn't count the number of times she had tried to leave, only to face some unfortunate incident and need to return. She felt like a bird in a cage, and the bars were hot as coals, while wicked children poked sticks at her and laughed.

Faustus rubbed his beak along her cheek and she giggled, releasing him to clamber down the tree. "Do you think that knight is still in town?"

She wasn't sure what it was that drew her to him, but she had this aching need to see him at least one more time.

Faustus made a rumbling croak sound, almost like his version of a cat's purr, and hopped from branch to branch with her, going ahead when they neared the bottom to scout for dangers. The sky darkened above them as the clouds thickened, their silver color transforming to a sullen grey, making a pseudo-dusk despite the sun still high in the heavens. Seras' steps quickened as she followed her bird from the forest, skirting carefully around the farmers' fields and making it to the edge of the town just as the first drops of rain fell. Glancing around her, she found to some surprise that Faustus had led her to the knight's inn, and as she had no wish to catch her death of cold she pulled the hood of her ratty cloak up and crept into the lobby, inching around the empty front desk to the bar where she could perhaps hunker close to the fire and go unnoticed for a while.

So long as she kept her hood up and none of the locals made a fuss, the inn keepers would allow her to sing for her supper, entertaining the visitos that had not yet been told she was supposedly a witch. Checking the crowd, she decided to test her luck and hunkered deeper into the shadows of her cloak as she began to hum. No one paid her any mind, and she grinned.

Raising her voice she began to sing an old favorite of hers, the high notes always gave her a thrill, and she heard the room grow quiet as the conversations stopped. When she paused a bar maid approached with a small tureen of water and Seras gave her a grateful look as some of the patrons called out suggestions. Wetting her dry throat, she obliged their requests and lost herself in the moment, feeling like a normal girl.

Her empty cup was set at her feet for any pennies the audience wished to gift her, and she was delighted to hear more than a few _clink_s as they obliged her. Time passed unnoticed, too absorbed in her songs, until she heard a much louder _clunk_ and looked up in surprise to find the knight looming over her. Choking on the high note, she felt her cheeks burn as she looked away from him and quickly finished the song, bowing her head in gratitude to the crowd who politely clapped before returning to their half forgotten conversations and meals.

Peeking into the cup, her jaw dropped as she saw a gold sovereign sitting atop the dull pennies, and she jerked her head up to protest his generosity but he was gone. Surely he must have dropped it by mistake! Dumping the coins into her hands she shoved them into her belt pouch and hurried to her feet, bringing the empty container back to the counter, "Did y'see where th' knight went?" Seras half whispered to the kind bar maid, who looked at her askance before tittering and nodding. "'e went out t' th' stables lil witch miss."

Seras fished one of her pennies out and laid it on the counter as she scampered out to the barn to find the knight readying his horse for travel. Her heart sunk in dread, but she pushed the feeling aside and approached meekly.

"Sir," he didn't look at her, "I think y'made a mistake Sir." She pulled the heavy gold coin from her pouch, holding it out to him, "Y' gave me this."

He glanced over his shoulder at her, "There's no mistake Little Wolf."

She stared at him, utterly gobsmacked, "B-…but Sit! Surely…"

"Are you questioning me?" He growled, looming over her once more, and she very nearly cowered back, pupils dilating as her heart raced in her chest. "Well," she managed around her thick tongue, "it's jus' tha'… a gold coin Sir?"

"Yes." He nodded and finished fixing the strap on his horse's tack. "Consider it payment for services rendered."

Something rankled at her core and she dropped the coin, the gold shimmering brightly as it tumbled to the earth, "I ent a whore." She spat, backing up a step, her fight or flight instncts screaming at her to run.

He went dead still, and oh so slowly turned his head to catch her in his fearsome gaze. His lip curled the slightest bit, "No," he agreed so calmly that it scared her, "You're not. A whore would hardly be worth the pennies in your purse." He toed the coin, looking disapprovingly at her.

She felt shame curdle in her gut, and it was only her pride that kept her from dropping to her knees to pick it back up again. She didn't know what to say to him, and bit her lip as she stood there, a pathetic waif in her ratty cloak while he was a resplendent and generous knight with a wonderful black steed. Without another word he mounted the beast and Seras felt tears prickling the corners of her eyes as he left.

Snatching the gold up she stuffed it back in her pouch and swore never to spend it as she gave chase.

* * *

To her relief he hadn't gone very far. She found him in the town square, buying a bushel of apples for his mount. She trailed after him like a lost puppy, and the other villagers couldn't help but notice. Next he bought a bag of oats, and he carried it with such ease, followed by the last carrots of the season. Seras felt her mouth water as she shadowed the intimidating man, vowing to herself to return to June's bakery before it closed to buy an apple tart with her pennies.

Lost in her thoughts of the pastry, she bumped into a man and stumbled back, landing in the dirt at his feet with a muffled grunt. He glared down at her as her hood slipped, and he snarled, backhanding her with a curse. "Filthy witch!"

Shit.

Scrambling backwards on all fours she bumped into another pair of legs and looked up with fear in her blue eyes as another burly man leered down at her. He reached for her and she slapped the hand away without thinking.

"Big mistake, witch!" He growled, kicking her in the ribs and she coughed as the air was knocked from her lungs. The first man laughed cruelly and kicked her as well and she retched as her stomach protested the beating it was taking.

A hard hand knotted in her short hair and yanked her head back painfully to gaze up into the hateful face of the monster that took delight in her pain. A booted foot slammed down on her ankle and she screamed, feeling the bone threaten to snap under the pressure.

Both of the men laughed and she was thrown back to the dirt, another boot planting itself in her side. Nausea overcame her and she vomited up the half digested bread with a whimpering moan.

"Lookit tha'! Filthy witch made a mess!" The first one laughed and kicked her again, rolling her away from the puke puddle instead of into it like he had planned.

"What's going on here?" A cold voice interrupted the one sided fight, and the two men jumped in surprise to see the knight towering over them a scowl on his face. They shared a nervous glance before running, shouting something about the Devil at their heels.

Seras whimpered, curling in on herself as she fought to breathe through the pain. A steel toed boot nudged her and she looked up at him wordlessly. He tipped his head before dropping an apple on the edge of her cloak and walking off.

Stunned, she stared after him, lost for words. Clambering dizzily to her feet, she tucked the apple into a fold of her cloak and limped after him, heedless of the muttering townsfolk in her wake.

* * *

If he knew he was being followed he didn't show it, as he kept his steady pace back to his mountain of a horse, attaching the provisions to his steed's saddle bags. He pulled a carrot from the sack and led the horse off to stand under the shade of a tree as the flighty English weather began to clear, allowing some of the filtered light to brighten to dreary village.

Seras nearly collapsed as she tripped over a pebble, but she righted herself and continued her shambling gait towards him despite the pain in her damaged foot.

He glanced up at her then away dismissively, but she kept coming until she stood, swaying mildly, a few feet from the kngith and his horse.

"Ye dropped this." She spoke bluntly, holding out the apple, and he gave her a scornful look, but she continued before he could say a word, "Ye bought it for ye horse, not for me."

He sneered.

She limped forward until the marvelous horse turned to face her and she smiled as she held the apple out to him, clucking her tongue invitingly. He ate the apple in three bites and his lips tickled her skin as he lapped at the sticky residue on her fingers, she giggled and reached out to pet down the length of his muzzle, "Aye, yer a beaty. A real fine one ye are."

She felt the world sway under her feet and she leaned forward dizzily, grateful for the support of the knight's horse as her head throbbed.

There was a shift in the air and Seras felt a shiver roll down her spine. Then…

_**CAW!**_

Seras nearly jumped out of her skin as Faustus swooped down on them, and her breath quickened as she caught sight of the mob approaching them from the square, pitchforks in hand and angry looks on their weather beaten faces.

"The witch has called the Devil to our town! Look how she follows him and his beast!" The cry went up, and the others chanted "the witch has called the Devil!" as they approached in a seething mass.

"No!" Seras shouted as she turned unsteadily, arms outstretched, "He's not th' Devil!"

"She defends him!" Another cried, "Only Satan's whore would dare lie so."

"Hang them both!" Another shouted and the mob roared in agreement.

From the edge of the crowd she saw the constable approaching, a short sword in hand, a grim look on his chubby face. Blood would be spilled this night if she didn't do something.

"I'm telling th' truth!" Seras screamed back, "he's just a traveler ye superstitious moron!"

"Big words," one of the women mocked her, "for a witch."

The crowd spread out to surround them and Seras wished, not for the first time, that she really was the witch they accused her of being. If she had the magic they claimed she did, she could summon some great spirit, or a fireball, and send them running back to their homes while she escaped.

The knight's horse whinned angrily and reared up behind Seras, his eyes flashing red in the dying light of the sun.

"It's a demon!" Someone shrieked, and suddenly the crowd jumped back a step as the knight's shadow loomed across the ground towards them.

"So, this is English hospitality? He growled, yet Seras also thought she caught a hitn of amusement in his voice, "calling travelers the Devil and wanting to kill them after they spend their money."

The villagers muttered uneasily, fear plain on their faces.

"Call for the Father!" Someone shouted, "Father Anderson to cleanse the town! The witch has called the Devil to smite us!"

Father Anderson's name was like a shield, and the men with their pitchforks advanced a step, grinning viciously as the sharp points gleamed in the bloody light from the west.

Glancing over her shoulder, she felt time freeze as her eyes met the knight's. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt the world sway under her feet, tilting sickeningly yet staying still all at the same time.

Something passed between them in that moment, and Faustus screeched in outrage. A cloud of darkness rose from the woods as the resident flock of crows rose to Faustus' call.

As if that were some strange signal, the knight mounted his horse with fluid grace and reached down to grasp her by the shoulder, hauling her up into the large saddle with him as the flock descended on the village.

The sound of screams was drowned out by the flapping of wings and the raucous caws of the attacking swarm.

Blackness crept into the edges of her vision as she huddled in to the knight's armored chest, uncertainty roiling in her gut.

Why… Why had he taken her with him?

"Because, Little Wolf, you intrigue me."

Had she spoken aloud? She must have or how could he have responded to her thoughts. She felt the nausea return, but before she could puke what remained of her guts out she felt something pinch her neck and she was dead to the world the next second, unconscious body slumping against the dark knight as his black steed rode through the woods away from the village she had spent her life confined in.


	5. Chapter 5

_**The Raven's Shadow**_

_**Ketti:** _If it wasn't obvious yet; my 'make up' updates are a lie. My vision's been wonky the past two weeks or so, and my eye surgery is coming up soon. I'll write what I can, but updates are going to be sporadic again. I'll still write and update whenever a chapter's done, but... Well, y'know how it goes.  
Reviews mean a lot to me. *heart* Even if I don't reply to them like I used to, I still read and adore them. Reviews are usually the guilt trip to update, too. ;) That or Jubalii telling me what to write. She's good at that.

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She was in her favorite tree, the wind swaying the branches as she sat against the hard, barky trunk. She sighed happily, feeling at ease in the bright summer afternoon. The emerald leaves shimmered in the light and the forest was alive with color. For once in her life, everything was right

The breeze ruffled her bangs, and she smiled, tipping her head back to let the wind cool her face. Then the sky changed, turning black as pitch as the clouds moved in from no where and Faustus swooped down with a screech just as a netted arrow was fired and the raven was pinned to the tree, wings thrashing as he tried to tear the netting open to free himself. More arrows were lainched as Seras tried to get to her feet to escape and she screamed as she was tangled in the rope and thrown to the forest floor. She heard something _snap_ wetly in her wrist as she put her hand out to cushion the landing for her face, and her throat went tight, cutting off her agonized cry.

Feet trampled loudly on the earth as she was surrounded and the men from the village growled and glared menacingly at her as another few, chuckling darkly, gathered the ends of the rope and hauled her across the rocky ground to the river bordering the woods.

Her head throbbed and her thoughts were sluggish as she tried to comprehend what was happening, a cold part of herself whispering that they would try to kill her again, and they might succeed. There was a familiar gurgle as the river bank approached, and Seras fought back the panic that was rising in her throat, reminding herself that she could swim. Father Anderson had taught her to swim. _You can survive this, _she chanted, trying valiantly to block out the little voice that disagreed with her; with a broken wrist and Lord knows what else they might do to weigh her down…

There was a violent commotion at the riverbank and she looked up to see a crowd of male villagers, the females staying farther off up the bank to prevent accidentally falling into the cold, deep waters of the black, frothy river.

"Did you bring the stones?" Said one as he dragged her body to the riverbank.

"Yeh, they're in the boat." Another spoke and Seras' heart went cold with dread, but she knew she needed to preserve her energy, so she didn't fight as she was hauled by the ropes through the shallow water into the roughshod little boat. Splinters stuck to her arms and she winced, but because her wrist was clearly broken, they didn't bother to tie her hands.

"We'll make sure the witch drowns," one laughed as he tied the netting around her waist and dropped heavy stones into it, and Seras grunted as they landed on her back. "I'm not a witch," she muttered, but yelped when she was kicked in the ribs. Breath coming in wheezing gasps, she whimpered and clutched at the side of the boat despite the splinters digging into her palms. Oh god, they were going to kill her.

The three men laughed cruelly as they rowed out into the middle where the lead man picked up the bundle of rope and rock. "One," he called, and the other two paused to grab her arms and legs and she shrieked as her broken wrist was jarred. "Two." They swung her back and her whole miserable life flashed bfore her eyes, a silent prayer going to the heavens as Father Anderson taught her.

"Three!"

She was flying through the air and suddenly the cold was surrounding her and she was thrown head over heels as the current dragged her down and the rocks started to sink. She had to fight the urge to gasp, knowing she needed all the air she still had in her lungs as she sank. Her thoughts were jumbled with the thought of drowning, how no one would find her body, how she wished she had left this cursed town years ago, when she came to a sudden stop. The rocks had snagged on a larger one under the water, jamming, and with a determination born of desperation, she forced her cold numbed fingers to scrabble for the ropes at her waist, thankful her hips were still quite small from her sparse diet. Wriggling and squirming, she pulled herself free and kicked to the surface. Almost… almost…

The world was growing dark at the edges as her lungs burned, begging her to just give in and inhale the chilly waters.

There was a flicker of movement above her and she knew, she just _knew_ that Faustus was there on the other side of the water, urging her to the surface. With one last burst of effort she threw herself upward and…

Woke with a gasp as a large hand gripped her shoulder punishingly tight and hauled her back upright as her flailing body nearly fell off the horse.

"If you wanted off so badly," he sneered, "you could have just asked."

Embarrassed, her cheeks turned beet red and she ducked her chin against her chest, mumbling under her breath along the lines of 'sorry to trouble you, your majesty'.

He snorted and his horse continued his steady trot, and Seras peered out from beneath her lashes, examining the trees around them. It had come sunset again already, and her stomach growled in protest. Faustus swooped into view then, and alighted on the horse's neck, a chunk of bread in his beak that he dropped in her lap. "Thank y'Faustus." Seras smiled at the bird and gratefully sunk her teeth into the fresh and crusty bread.

Silence reigned until Seras looked up at the knight's chin, and then away, fixing her gaze on his steed's ebony mane. "Does y' horse have a name. Sir?"

"It's Mephisto." He answered, and flicked the reins gently in his hands to speed his mount's pace as the breeze picked up and Seras caught something strange on the wind. Straightening up, she tipped her head back and inhaled deeply. It was… her brow crinkled, it was familiat, yet not. When the first wolf howled she realized with a start that they were surrounded. Faustus clacked his beak but stayed put, talons firmly hooked into Mephisto's mane as the black stallion jumped forward into a gallop.

Seras glanced up once more, but saw no discernible expression on the knight's face, and with a sudden jump from Mephisto over a fallen log she found herself pressed cheek to chest with his cold armor whilst the wolves howled behind them, giving chase. Caged by his strong arms, she felt tiny and unimportant, like an unwanted child. The trees parted around them in a clearing and there was a snarl as three of the wolves attempted to block their advance.

The clouds parted from the moon and faintly crimson light spilled down upon them as Mephisto reared, and Seras thought for a moment she saw the stallion's shadow twist into a swarm of bats as the knight's cape took the shape of a massive hound.

The wolves went silent around them and yelped in fear as they ran, tails between their legs, and Seras was _sure_ she saw the shadow hound chasing them, but Mephisto carried on as though nothing had happened and the blonde kept silent.

After another half hour of travelling, she squirmed, crossing her legs uncomfortably before giving in and tugging on the knight's sleeve. "S'cuse m' Sir. I need t' use th' privy, please."

He twitched the reins and Mephisto nickered as he slowed, coming to a stop by a small stream shrouded by bushes and tall grass. Seras slid down his side with a gentle _thud_, then yelped, falling face first into the bush as her ankle throbbed in protest. Right… Gathering the gem of her ratty cloak up in her hands, she lifted her skirt to inspect her ankle and winced at the massive purple bruise.

The knight looked at her strangely, but stayed in his saddle as he waited for her to do her business, and she gave him a curt nod before scittering under cover of the foliage. She'd quite like a bath, but she didn't want to keep him waiting so long he left without her. So she washed her hands and face quickly after finishing her bodily needs, and she made her way, somewhat unsteadily, back to the dark knight.

Standing there, she barely made it to the top of his boot as he loomed above her, and she squirmed before holding a hand up hopefully. "A li'l help, Sir?"

He turned his head, and she saw his eyes gleaming red in the shadow of his bangs before he leant over and grasped her wrist, pulling her up in one swift motion before seating her sideways in front of him on the saddle once more. Shifting a bit to get comfortable, she offered him a small smile of thanks as he twitched the reins and Mephisto began trotting once more.

Her stomach grumbled quietly, and her cheeks flushed, the blush brightening as he leaned back a little and pulled an apple from Mephisto's saddle bags, handing it to her silently. Ducking her head, she nibbled on the fruit gratefully, core and all.

Sleep tugged at the edge of her consciousness and finally she dared to ask; "'scuse m' Sir. Where we goin'?" She covered a yawn with her hand and tipped sideways against him, to which he had no comment, and she shrugged her cloak up higher around herself as her eyelids drooped and she swayed in time with the black stallion's smooth gait.

"Wherever we please, Little Wolf."


	6. Chapter 6

_**The Raven's Shadow**_

_**Ketti: **_** *wav4s*** Allo. I have my appointment to find out when my surgery will be scheduled on Friday. JuJu gets me to write, so you can thank her for updates. She gives me little sentences to unstick myself from. This one might update the mos for a while because she inspires me on it. XD

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She stayed awake as they travelled, her eyes on the varying countryside. She'd never been far outside of the village, only to the closest neighboring townships on her trips with Father Anderson. But they had always moved north, and by the position of the sun Seras could see that the knight was taking her south. As curious as she was, she couldn't help but force herself to stay awake and watch the new, interesting things.

They'd been traveling for most of the day when she heard voices coming around a large bend in the road. They sounded so familiar! Wondering if it was perhaps the good Father or his compatriots, she strained to see around the low-hanging branches of the trees blocking her view. However, when the other travelers turned the corner her heart sank in horror and she pressed back into the cold armor of her companion, trying in vain to hide herself.

There was a pause as the men stopped, standing to the side to let the horse go by, when one of them – the Magistrate's brother! – recognized her and he snarled as he reached out and yanked her off the horse by her bad ankle. She screamed as she fell to the dirt, instinct the only thing saving her from cracking her skull open.

"It's the witch!"

Seras thrashed, trying to free herself as the headman's son lifted her higher, her skirts and cloak gathering at her waist. "Whatcha doin' on such a fine horse, little witch? Did ya bewitch this knight to protect you?" He spat in her face and she winced, wiping it from her cheek as the knight growled and his steed whinnied angrily.

"Woah!" One of the men cried, hands raised, "we're doing you a favor, mate! This here's a witch our town's been trying to cleanse for the past four years."

Faustus screeched and swooped down on them angrily, and the third male yelped. "You see?! The witch's familiar!"

The knight glared at them and put a hand to his sword hilt. "You think I would be so weak to fall under a simple spell?" He sounded insulted, "Enough of this nonsense, peasants." He spit the word, and his ginger eyes narrowed dangerously, "Release the girl or face the consequences."

The headman's son's friends muttered fearfully as they took a step back, casting nervous glances at their leader.

He growled and yanked Seras up into the air by her ankle, and she screamed as she felt the bone threatening to snap under the pressure. "Repent for your sins, she-devil!"

The man had never liked her, the younger son of their village headman, his brother in the seat of power he craved, he took out his envious rage on Seras each time their paths crossed.

Faustus cawed angrily and swooped down on the Magistrate's brother, sharp talons scoring his face, and he yelped, blood trickling down into his eye, but he refused to release Seras, instead shaking her violently and she nearly blacked out as the blood rushed to her head and she felt the bone crack.

The raven landed on Mephisto's mane and he cawed threateningly, wings half spread as he bobbed his head, glaring at the humans with fey intelligence.

"I warned you." The knight rumbled, and his shadow spread out around him like a fallen angel's wings, the dirt path swallowed by darkness as he raised one armor gloved hand, pointing at the leader of the little group, voice pitched low and gravelly. "Release her."

Seras hit the dirt with a dull thump and she scrambled awkwardly across the dirt to cower under Mephisto's legs, biting her lip so hard it bled to smother her whimpers of pain.

The leader's lackeys cried in terror and alarm as they leaped back, then realizing their friend was stuck in place, they cast fearful looks at the mounted demon. "The Devil!" One cried, "The Devil has magicked a spell on him! He protects his witch whore! Run!" He and the other man grabbed their leader bodily and ran down the path, screaming about spells and curses.

There was a moment of dead silence as the fleeing trio rounded the bend, and Seras could hear her heart pounding in her skull as she focused on breathing through the pain. The heavy _thud_ of the knight dismounting startled her into looking up, and he bent at the waist to stare at her wordlessly. Tears gathered in her eyes as she clutched her wounded leg helplessly, feeling utterly wretched and worthless. She was such a burden, she thought glumly, why he didn't just abandon her then and there she didn't know.

Faustus landed on the path beside her and hopped closer, cawing softly as he inspected her clenched hands over the quickly swelling ankle, the dark purple bruise darkening further.

"It's broken." The knight announced bluntly and Seras nodded weakly, tasting the hot copper of her own blood as she swallowed back her pain.

Mephisto moved back, and Seras nearly fell over without the support of his legs, but the knight, whose name she still did not know, caught her shoulders and slid his other arm under her legs, hosting her up easily and propping her on the saddle, mounting so quickly and smoothly she could hardly believe her eyes.

"I know of an apothecary in a nearby town, Little Wolf." He spoke so calmly as he flicked his steed's reins, and Mephisto continued at a gentle pace. He said nothing more, and after a moment, Seras glanced up at him, taking a shallow breath before offering him a shaky smile, "Thank y' Sir."

* * *

Seras was anxious as they entered the town, blue eyes darting about like a trapped animal looking for an escpae route. When they stopped at a dimly lit building she braced herself against Mephisto's neck as the knight dismounted behind her. After a moment, she looked down, and seeing the inscrutable look on his face, carefully slid down, squeaking in alarm as his strong arms caught her around the waist and hoisted her up bridal style. Her cheeks flushed cherry red and she refused to look at him, instead staring intently at her grubby skirt as they stepped into the apothecary's shop. It was after hours, but the young apprentice had let them in the moment he spied the knight. Seras was unceremoniously dumped into a wooden seat as they awaited the man, and despite her pain she didn't mind waiting all night. She'd heard many stories about apothecaries, and about the quacks who often took your money and left you no better off.

She sniffed the air curiously as she eyed the bundles of herbs dangling from the ceiling and the countless bottles lining the over packed shelves, admiring the pretty colors of the glass vials. She jumped a little in surprise when the curtain separating the shop from the living quarters rustled noisily, admitting a bespectacled bald man in an oversized beige shirt, yawning and scratching his shiny pate. The disgruntled expression on his face melted instantly when his dark grey eyes landed on the knight, and he dipped his head in a bow, "M'lord, how may this humble apothecary serve thee?"

The knight grunted and waved his hand carelessly at Seras, "The girl's ankle is broken. Fix it."

The man hummed in acknowledgement and gestured at his apprentice, who scurried over to the counter to fetch the low stool and place it in front of his master. Seras' muscles tensed in alarm at his approach, too many awful memories of beatings rattling in her skull, and she slouched in the chair, making herself a smaller target as she tugged nervously at her hood. The man either truly did not, or pretended not to notice her unease as he sat down before her and when she made no move to look at him, he simply reached down and grabbed her left leg, hauling it up into his lap. "Let's see what we have here then." He paused, and Seras ducked her head, tucking her chin to her chest as she felt the cool air on her foot. Her burn scar marred skin tingled and her hands flew to the rough hewn arms of the chair, jaw clenching tightly. "So, I am to be treating a witch this night, m'lord?"

At the word 'witch' Seras' heart skipped a beat and she pushed against the chair in a bid for freedom, only to have a large hand clamp down on her shoulder. Alarmed, feeling cornered, her free leg rose to lash out at the apothecary in her fit of panic, voice cracking on the words; "I ent a witch!"

The assistant leaped out of no where to catch her flying foot, and she nearly sobbed, "I ent!"

"Quiet, girl." The knight growled and his grip tightened on her shoulder, making her wince and curl in on herself as shivers wracked her frail body. The apothecary clucked his tongue and pushed the hem of her skirt up further, acting as though nothing had happened as he inspected her swollen leg. "Hush, little witch, I have no plans to poison you this night. If m'lord wishes you fixed, it will be done. Boy!" He snapped at his apprentice and the lad jumped into action, dropping Seras' leg and scampering back behind the counter fo fetch a roll of bandages as he pulled a sprig of something or other out of his pocket and licked the edge of it before placing it against her ankle. "The bone is cracked, but no broken, m'lord. Keep her off of it for the next while and it will be good as new."

Deft fingers wrapped her foot gently but firmly, moving over the mottled skin without pause of flinch of disgust. He released her foot to rest gently on the floor, and quick as a flash grabbed her other one to wrap it as well. Seras just hunched her shoulders and bit her lip, tasting blood in her mouth as she kept herself still and quiet.

"These scars are a good few years old," he hummed, then addressed her properly, "Little witch, have you any other scars? The salve in these bandages will help reduce the swelling in them."

Seras said nothing for a long moment, then silently offered him her hands, too embarrassed to tell of the more hidden parts of herself. He tsk'd and gently wrapped her palms and fingers, tucking the loose end into the wrist so it appeared she wore gloves and socks.

The apothecary paused another moment after his job was finished and Seras peeped up at him through her lashes, and caught the glance he shot the knight over his glasses curiously. He sighed, running a hand over his smooth scalp. "M'wife, God rest her soul, was around your girl's size, m'lord. I might be able to find her a more suitable dress."

The knight said nothing, but she could only guess he nodded or made some gesture, for the apothecary stood and grabbed his assistant by the shoulder to help him as they departed the shop into the living quarters, leaving the knight and his witch alone.

Seras stared at her stained smock, and fidgeted before looking up at the man whose hand was still on her shoulder. "Thank y', m'lord." She offered him a tremulous smile before looking away, embarrassed. "Y' dinnit hafte."

He said nothing, but a moment later the apothecary returned with a bundle in his arms, unrolling it to reveal a simple deep blue dress with a matching bonnet, the bodice of the dress made of a sturdy leather, the laces looking in fine shape. Seras smiled at it, and felt a pang in her heart for the man's kindness towards her. His apprentice stumbled out a moment later, nearly tripping over the matching deep blue hooded cloak in his arms, and it was all Seras could do not to jump for joy at the thought of new clothing. She'd been wearing the same outfit for a year now, washing it in the rains and the river when she swam.

"Thank y'." Seras murmured, ducking her head, then glancing up at the knight hopefully. "Could I p'rhaps get changed afore we leave, Sir?"

The men exchanged a glance before the knight nodded and the apprentice helped her to her feet, leading her back to the curtain as she limped carefully across the floor. Taking shelter behind the flimsy cloth barrier, Seras wiggled out of her ratty clothing and into the new dress with a grateful sigh.

When she bent to retrieve her dropped bundle of rags, she overbalanced and fell with a yelp. The curtain was yanked back at once and the boy couldn't help but snicker at her as she floundered in the oversized cloak she had thrown over her shoulders. "Forget the rags, miss, we'll burn them later." He spoke in such a gentle voice that Seras almost didn't hear him, but when he reached out and helped her back to her feet, she gave him a grateful smile. "Thank y'."

"'tis no problem, miss witch. You travel with a very important man, my master has known him for many years." He confided in her as they walked slowly back to the silent men, "take care."

Before Seras could say anything in reply, the door burst open and five grubby men in blood stained leather with rusted swords rushed into the shop, yelling something about slaying a demon as they attempted to surround the knight.

He graced them with a cold, blood chilling smile, and pulled his sword from its sheath in a grand gesture, just as a harsh wind blew in through the open door and the candles in the shop guttered out. Seras jumped in alarm and fell back against the apprentice as the sound of clashing blades and screams filled the air. Quite suddenly there was silence, and the boy pushed her gently back to her feet as he scurried back through the curtain, returning with a glowing lantern.

The brigands were dead at the knight's feet, and Seras could only feel relieved to see him unhurt. "Tha' was amazing!" She cried, "defeatin' those men in th' dark like tha'."

He graced her with a cold smile as well, and laughed cruelly as he wiped the blood stained blade on the back of one of the fallen men before hilting it at his waist. "So blood thisty, Little Wolf." His words came out in a rumbling growl, and she felt her cheeks flush as he teased her. At least, she thought he was teasing.

"Leaving me to clean up the mess as usual, m'lord?" The apothecary grumbled, and Seras couldn't help but admire how youthful he looked despite his apparent age to be lacking his hair. He moved like a young man, though his posture was terrible, and he toed one of the bodies with a grimace while the knight smirked nastily at him and flipped a gold coin at him for his trouble.

Before Seras could even blink he seemed to be in front of her and her sluggish mind struggled to catch up as his arms encircled her and hoisted her back up into the air. Her breasts pressed flat against his armored chest as he held her to his side and her cheeks flushed, a stange tickle in her stomach as she looked away from him, her hands fisting at the material of his cape bunched across his shoulders helplessly.

Without another word they left the shop, finding Mephisto grazing not ten feet away, apparently undisturbed by the bandits. Faustus' head was tucked under his wing, perched on the stallion's saddle, having apparently slept through the whole encounter.

It struck Seras again that she did not know the knight's name, only referring to him as Sir, m'lord, or 'the knight'in her head. She opened her mouth, perhaps to enquire over it when he jostled her a little, lifting her back up onto the front of the saddle just behind where the raven slumbered.

She stayed quiet and still as he mounted with fluid grace behind her, despite the heavy builk of his armor, he moved like a predator. Her eyelids fluttered a little as she smothered a yawn, and she snuggled into the depths of the much warmer and nicer cloak as she leaned back against the knight's chest, trusting him to keep her from falling should she give in to the need for sleep.

"M'lord," she murmured around another yawn, "should we stop for th' night somewhere?"

He snorted and flicked the reins, "No, Little Wolf. Not here."

"Oh," she hummed, lulled by the gentle swaying of the horse's back. "Where are we goin'?"

"To see an old acquaintance of mine."

Seras hummed thoughtfully as she recalled the word in her lessons on reading.

Just as sleep pulled at her, nearly drowning her beneath its waves, she whispered her last words, almost like a plea. "I ent a witch, Sir. I ent."

Her body went limp and she was unconscious the next moment as the red eyed knight chuckled and pulled her closer to his chest. "Of course you aren't, Little Wolf, of course you aren't."

The moonlight glinted off his teeth as he gave the night a vicious grin, possessiveness gleaming in his ginger gaze. There was a hint of red smeared on one tooth, and his tongue flicked out to wipe it away as his horse walked into the trees, the shadows enveloping them seamlessly.


End file.
